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Lake Isabella, CA, United States
I am an aspiring writer in the Kern River Valley. This blog is a "test kitchen" to try different writing styles and to work through the many rejections and the handful of acceptances my work has received. But no matter what other people say about my writing, at least my mother thinks I'm a good writer!

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Guess What Came in the Mail...

A check for $150 from Guideposts Magazine for my Promise Pinecone piece! What will I do with this little windfall? This actual money that my typing on the computer magically produced?

Well, the long-term-thinking thing to do would be to use it to pay for something else writing-related, like a writing workshop, or save it towards my creative writing masters...

But based on the pain in my feet at the end of the day...and the slippery soles and scuffed footwear in my closet, I might just need to buy myself a few pairs of new shoes. It's not a very exciting idea or a long-term investment, but I really do need new shoes.

If you recieved a check for $150, how would you spend it?

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Speechless.




PictureCredit:http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/12/081218122152.htm


I had a disturbing confrontation with an acquaintance this summer. As always, when I can't get over my fear or anger over something that has happened, I find it helpful to write a poem about it. Sometimes I have to write several, if something is really upsetting. I probably wrote at least 15 poems and two narrative stories about my grandfather dying before I started feeling like I could lay those feelings to rest.

Thankfully, the event I wrote about here was only a one-poem event. And here is the one poem:




Speechless 7/21/11

My tongue is a leech.

I cannot speak the magic words to break this spell.

When I do try to speak,

frogs and snakes fall from my lips

and drop to the ground, cracking their heads

or slithering away, impotent.

Your words are the words of power-

forceful, intense, quick.

Scaly locusts shoot from your open mouth,

flapping and scratching and slapping my face.

There is no prince for this leech-tongued girl;

all I can do is limp away and hide

with locusts buzzing in my ears.